Unchecked Baggage
by Shotzette
Summary: Sequel to Altared States. In this AU, Lenny visits Laverne Malina in California to see if what they found in Las Vegas will last.


**Unchecked Baggage**

By Shotzette

Rated NC-17

S_tandard fanfic disclaimer: This is only a work of fan fiction; written for fun, not for profit. It is not meant to infringe upon anyone's copyrights or intellectual properties._

Lenny Kosnowski held his breath, as the Pan Am jet made it's final-- though not too final-- he prayed, descent onto the runway at LAX. The flight from Las Vegas had only been an hour and a half long, but when each second was filled with nail biting terror, time had tended to drag.

Then again, anything was better than Army transport. It wasn't like a drill sergeant was there to punch your lights out on a passenger jet for crying and acting like a chicken when the plane hit turbulence. Although, he thought as the little old lady in the seat next to him fixed him with a murderous glare, nothing was for certain.

"Well?" the little old lady asked through gritted teeth.

"Well what?

Lips mummified by flaking layers of dark red lipstick drew in tight and flat against the old lady's dentures. "Are you going to sit on your duff all day, or are you going to move your keister and let me off of the plane you big idiot, that's what!"

"I'm going, I'm going," Lenny yelped as he leapt awkwardly to his feet and started to pry open the overhead carrier to retrieve his battered Army duffel bag. He'd hoped to make a quick exit from the plane, or as he'd come to think of it in the last hour, his flying metal tomb. Scowling at the line of people between his seat and the door, he momentarily regretted cashing in Laverne's gift of a first class ticket and riding coach. Then again, since being let go from "Rolling Thunder" two months prior, the difference in the ticket prices allowed him to make the month's rent.

A new band would come along, he told himself over and over. A better band, a band that did more than recycle Buddy Holly tunes and Country Pop. Maybe it was time to finally take his chance, get with an established band in one of the swankier hotels, and finally join the musician's union… _Become a famous rock and roll start just like Elvis?_ Who was he kidding? He was cover band material; always had been, always would be.

Then again, as he walked down the steps onto the hot, Los Angeles tarmac and looked at his surroundings for the first time, dreams had recently started to come true for him.

Laverne Malina stubbed out her cigarette as she anxiously looked toward the boarding area. Where was he? Did he back out? Get cold feet? Did she over-romanticize their time in Vegas? Maybe it had just been a weekend fling? No promises were exchanged beyond staying in touch. Inviting Lenny for the weekend had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, she thought as she looked at her companions, maybe she had been pushing it.

Then again, what did she have to lose?

Lenny saw her from twenty yards away, unmistakable with blond hair and a denim dress, even among the chronically blonde and blue-jeaned Californians, his Laverne stood out like a diamond among rhinestones.

_His Laverne?_ He blinked in surprise at the ease in which the thought crossed his mind. They hadn't made any promises in Vegas; and one weekend—albeit one mostly spent in his bed—had proved that she wasn't the girl he had known back in Milwaukee. He caught his own reflection in the mirrored surface by the baggage carousel, and realized that he wasn't the same Milwaukee boy that shed known a lifetime ago either.

"Laverne!" he hollered, and then winced at the sound of his nasal shriek. _Cool Kosnowski, really cool._

She walked toward him and the smile on her face buoyed his soul. He was right to take three days off and come out here, he reminded himself. She was a good thing—what they had between them was good.

As Laverne neared him however, he couldn't help notice the manic look in her green eyes.

"Vernie," he said as he held out his arms.

"Len!" She sank into his embrace, but when he turned to kiss her, she turned away so his lips touched her cheek instead.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear.

Sorry? Did she ask him to fly to LA just to be dumped? Before Lenny could voice his paranoid fantasy, Laverne pulled away and gestured to the two young girls walking behind her.

"There's been a slight change in plans, Len," she said as her eyes darted nervously from him to the girls. "The girls are going to be staying home this weekend, instead of visiting their father."

"Huh…OH..." he said as realization dawned on him. He instantly surmised that they wouldn't be having a repeat performance of what they had done on his kitchen table on hers. Lenny smiled automatically as the older of the two girls trudged forward.

"Lenny, this is Josie," Laverne said; as she gave her daughter a not so subtle shove towards him.

The teenager locked her eyes onto his for a split second before looking at the floor.

"Hey," she mumbled, as she looked like she would have rather been anywhere—the dentist chair included—than in that terminal at that moment.

"Hi."

"And this is Sofia."

"Hi!" The younger girl smiled shyly at Lenny, and he found himself smiling back at her.

"Let's go get your bags and then…"

"No need. I got it all in here." He said as he held up his duffle bag.

Laverne smiled, but Josie rolled her eyes. "Guess you didn't intend on wearing much…"

"Josie!" Laverne's voice held more than a note of warning.

"Nothing, Mom!"

Laverne smiled thinly. "I didn't think so."

"I've never been to LA before," Lenny said, desperate to break the silence and the mounting tension.

Josie's lips twisted into a smirk. "That's a shock," she muttered.

"What was that?"

Josie turned to her mother and smiled sugary sweet as her eyes burned holes into Lenny. "I said 'nice socks'."

Lenny smiled back at the girl with the same amount of sincerity. Hoisting the duffel bag onto his shoulder, he briefly considered hopping the next flight back to Vegas before he followed Laverne through the crowded terminal.

Laverne gritted her teeth as they walked through the parking lot of LAX and for the hundredth time that hour, lamented her decision to have children. Aside from the tax break, she was really having a hard time seeing their benefits. After a quick glance at Sofia, she reasoned that she wasn't a total failure at motherhood. Yet.

Josie, however… Laverne winced as she mentally went over the fights she'd had with Josie in the past month, more than she'd had with her in the last two years put together. Damned hormones. If this is what the teenaged years were going to bring, she was going to make good on her threat of a convent school.

Then again, she reasoned as she looked at her eldest daughter, who's long nose, green eyes, and love of baseball weren't the only things she'd inherited from her mother, why really give the kid something to rebel against?

Laverne slid into the seat of her Mercedes station wagon and immediately began to roll down the windows so the car could cool off.

"Shotgun!" Josie hollered as she lunged past Lenny and hopped into the front seat.

Laverne fought back the urge to smack her daughter on the back of the head and knock that obnoxious smile off of her face. "Josie!"

The look that greeted her was pure innocence. "What? I called it first."

"She did call it first, Laverne." Lenny echoed.

She shot him a look before turning to her first-born. "I'd like to think your dad and I taught you manners, young lady," she said in a quiet tone that could only be described as "moderately controlled rage", "Back seat, now!"

"Fine…"

Laverne watched her daughter through narrowed eyes as she slid out of the passenger side front seat and lurched into the back seat, every muscle in her body voicing her displeasure.

She turned to Lenny, and felt herself grow even angrier with Josie for putting her in the position of a mother having to apologize for her kid's awful behavior. Her mouth opened, but before she could say a word, Lenny said, "It's okay, Laverne."

"No," she replied, as the irritation found it's way into her voice. " It's not."

The only noise on the drive home was her aging Grateful Dead eight track tape telling them all to keep on trucking…

Lenny tried to keep his eyes fixed on the dashboard, as much as to not get carsick on the windy canyon roads as it was to avoid looking at things he'd rather not see. The fancy houses weren't a surprise; except for the fact he was going to one. He'd been prepared for that. A woman who'd married as well as Laverne did wasn't going to live in a battered row house in the bad part of town.

The more frightening sight was Josie. Once he'd gotten over the sheer shock of how much she looked like her mother—albeit when she was angry at him for a litany of youthful offenses ranging from making a raspberry sound as she sat down in church to popping the back of her training bra—the kid's outward hostility was mind blowing. He glanced in the rearview mirror and was somewhat cheered to see Sofia give him a shy smile and a tiny wave of her hand, before her hand was slapped down by Josie.

"Josie!" Laverne's nasal bark shattered the peaceful vibe that Jerry Garcia had tried to craft through the stereo speakers.

"She was on my side," Josie whined.

Laverne just glowered in response.

Lenny reached over and gently touched her knee, and was rewarded by a small smile as she glanced at him before turning her attention back to the road.

Unfortunately he could feel a pair of green eyes from the back seat boring through his skull up until the station wagon crested the hill on the driveway.

Lenny blinked in shock as Laverne turned the ignition off and prepared to get out of the car. It had to be some sort of mistake. The house in front of him dwarfed the other large, until now, homes in the neighborhood, sprawling out like a split-level Gulliver among the Lilliputian dwellings. The dark wooden front of the house seemed to sneer down on him, as though it was wondering how an insignificant insect like Lenny had managed to crawl up its circular driveway. The Latino woman in the maid's uniform walking out the front door looked only slightly less intimidating than the house.

"Missus, Mister Sal called while you were out and said that he changed his mind and could take the girls since you would be entertaining your…friend," the woman said, the word 'friend' spoken in the same tone as most people would say 'syphilis'.

"What else did he say, Arminda?" Laverne asked.

The housekeeper's face reddened slightly. "Nothing," she stammered, looking around awkwardly before her gaze settled on Lenny. "He had to go throw up again."

"Mom…" Josie began, as her eyes lit up.

"No." Laverne turned back towards Arminda. "Call him back and tell him thank you, but he and I can switch weekends when he gets better."

Josie stuck her chin out as she glared at her mother. "I could go take care of him, y'know. Like you said you'd take care of…"

"That's enough!" The volume of her words seemed to surprise even Laverne and she paused momentarily, as to regain control of herself. "Your father will be fine. Besides, he's got Denise looking after him."

Josie stuck her chin out, a gesture that reminded Lenny so much of her mother on a playground a thousand miles away and a couple of decades in the past. "I can take care of him as good as Denise can."

"I can help," Sofia chimed in.

Laverne shook her head. "No. Do you know what the best part of Denise taking care of your father is?"

Josie's eyes narrowed. "You get to spend all weekend hanging out with your boyfriend?"

"No!" Laverne smiled sweetly. "It's that I don't have to take care of Denise when she catches your father's stomach flu. Now get inside." Laverne turned to him as the girls followed Arminda into the house. "Len, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Her raised eyebrow made him remember on of the main reasons that he had been excited to see Laverne again. That and the sudden pressure in his groin, of course. "Okay, yeah."

"Josie is just impossible these days." Laverne said as they walked in through the massive oak door, her heels clicking on the tile floor.

Lenny checked himself before remarking how much Josie reminded him of Laverne when Frank DeFazio had taken Mrs. Gillespie, the dry-cleaner's widow, to the church Bazaar dance. Add pigtails, saddle shoes, and a sling shot in the back pocket, and Josie was her mother all over again. Then again, as he grimaced, considering how much the kid apparently hated his guts, he was sort of glad that she was unarmed.

"No, Lenny, down here," Laverne said as he started to go up a short flight of stairs.

"Putting me in the cellar?" Visions of their old apartment building on Knapp Street sprang into his head. What he would have given to spend the night back in that apartment with her all of those years ago…

Laverne's cheeks reddened and she looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. "There's a room upstairs, if you'd rather. With the girls here, my bedroom…"

Lenny's smile dropped. "Vernie, no. I mean, when I knew the girls would be here I just assumed that you and I wouldn't…y'know… Will we?" he added, hopefully.

She shook her head. I'm just not comfortable yet. They're…I have no idea when they're going to be comfortable…" her voice trailed off and she looked down the stairs again. "It's really a nicer room down here, anyhow."

Lenny envisioned his one bedroom apartment back in Henderson, complete with roaches and some sort of green thing that he had hesitated reporting to his landlord in the fear that the man would toss his ass out on the street for having a pet, and smiled back at her. "Anyplace in this house is fine with me, Vernie." A thought chilled him. "I don't gotta share a room with her , do I?"

Laverne let out a short nasal laugh. "I wouldn't wish Arminda in face cream and curlers on my worst enemy."

"Who is she, anywho?"

Laverne shrugged and looked momentarily uncomfortable. "She's the housekeeper. She acted as a nanny to the girls when Sal and I were together. She sort of keeps this place running."

"It's a lot to run."

"Too much," Laverne said as she flicked on a light in a large bedroom on the lower level.

Lenny blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden flare of brightness. The bedroom was huge, and he could see a bathroom through a doorway on he other end. The furniture looked old; sort of antique-y, but with a battered and comfortable look to it. He inhaled and thought he could smell the tiniest hint of bay rum aroma in the air. "This is really nice, Laverne."

"You don't mind being the cellar?"

"Nah, not at all. I was just teasing you."

She appeared to relax a bit and smiled a real smile at him. With a pang, he realized that he'd only seen her L.A. smiles since arriving in the house. "I'm glad that I came here," he blurted impulsively.

"Me too," she said as her arms slowly encircled his neck and she drew him down for a kiss.

His arms snaked around her waist as he drew her closer, resisting the urge to pull her tight against him and rub against her until he came. He let out a low moan as her tongue flickered against his lips. His hands roamed lower down her back as he felt a quivering hunger in her that matched his own. He reached downward to cup her buttocks when…

"Missus!"

Lenny jerked back from Laverne inwardly cursing himself for what his tucked in shirt was evidently revealing to anyone with the eyes to see. Quickly, he turned his back to Arminda and Laverne and tried to visualize a pile of dead kittens with all of his might.

"What!" Laverne growled in a voice that mirrored his own frustration.

He glanced back to see Arminda doing her best not to stare at them. "It's Dr. Feldman, Missus…"

"I'll take it in Sal's off—the den."

_Doctor? Was Laverne sick? Maybe one of the girls…?_ He instantly forgave Josie for all of her bad behavior as he silently prayed that she wouldn't end up like one of those telethon kids who tugged at his heartstrings until he sent Jerry Lewis a check for three dollars every Labor Day weekend. By the time he had opened his mouth to ask, Laverne had darted out the bedroom door and he was face to face with a smirking Arminda. The old woman looked him up and down and grimaced as her eyes lingered on his mid section. "Make yourself at home, Senor," she said, her polite words in clear contradiction with the disdain in her voice as she walked out of the room.

Laverne set the phone receiver down in it's olive green cradle and exhaled slowly. She was glad that she had closed the door to Sal's off—the den, and forced herself to pull herself together before leaving the room. She leaned back in Sal's leather office chair and closed her eyes; inhaling the still-there scent of his cologne and the fancy European smokes that he had favored. It was almost like he was still there… Except for Lenny's presence in the bedroom at the end of the hall.

What had she been thinking? She had been afraid that it was too soon for the girls to meet Lenny, but maybe it was too soon for her to be with anyone? The all too few flings she'd had since her divorce from Sal had been safe; married, or otherwise unattainable men who were just there for fun. Not one of them had been anyone that she ever would have dreamed bringing home and into her life. Why had she been so quick to open up to Lenny, she wondered as she pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling.

Was it because he was the only one worth opening up to? Was it because she felt like she needed to make up for lost opportunities with him? Was it…?

The sounds of Josie's angry foot stomping upstairs put an end to her introspection. Laverne looked at the ceiling and scowled, if Josie was angry enough to stomp, she was angry enough to…

"Mom!" Sofia's shriek echoed down the staircase.

In a flash, Laverne was on her feet and bolting up the stairs. She reached the top landing just in time to see Arminda intervene in what looked to be one hell of a slap fight.

Josie's green eyes were quickly reddening with tears. "Mom, Sofie took the last Pop Tart!"

"There are more in the cupboard," Sofia shrieked back, as she took advantage of the fact Arminda was holding Josie's arms back and sucker-kicked her sister in the shins.

Owww! Arminda! Josie hollered and wiggled free of the woman's grasp and lunged towards her sister. 'I wanted the cinnamon one! I always get the cinnamon one because you always get the fruity ones!"

Laverne reached her right hand out and grabbed her eldest daughter's shoulder, clamping down hard enough to distract her.

"Mom!"

"Enough!" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lenny creep quietly up the stairs, looking more timid than a deer. _Great…_ "This is over. Disneyland tomorrow is over!"

"Mom!"

"Not another word if you don't want to be grounded for the next two weeks instead of just this weekend, Josefina Lucia Malina!"

"But, Mom…" Laverne's youngest looked up at her, mouth opened, clearly ready to debate the leniency of her sister's current sentence.

"You too, Sofia! I've had it with the both of you. No supper for either of you, I want you to go to your rooms and go to bed."

Josie pointedly looked at the kitchen clock that read 7:45, but for once seemed smart enough to not speak.

"Now," Laverne growled in a voice she'd never heard herself use, as she glared at her daughter's backs as they trudged down the hallway to their rooms and pushed away all guilt.

"Missus," Aminda began.

She didn't even spare the woman a glance. "Don't."

Laverne forced herself not to turn around as she heard what must have been Lenny's footsteps softly thudding back down the stairs; away from her. Fighting back tears, She admitted to herself that maybe 7:45 was a good time to go to bed.

Lenny awoke with a jerk in the darkened room, fighting down a moment of panic until he remembered where he was and groaned: California, Laverne's house, in bed—alone. The room was dim, the faint morning light drifting in from the multiple windows on the upper half of the wall. It was early; then again, Lenny reasoned, anything before noon was early to him. He glimpsed the scattered playing cards on the floor next to the bed and wondered how many hands of solitaire he had played—and lost—between eight o'clock the night before and sometime around three that morning He rolled to onto his side and clutched the second pillow of the double bed against himself, wishing that he was holding something—someone else in front of him. _Fat chance of that, buddy_. He'd never seen the side of Laverne that he had seen last night. She'd always had a temper and was always a yeller, but the way she had snapped at her girls had shocked him.

Then again, the kids themselves had shocked the hell out of him. Laverne had talked about them a lot when she was back in his place in Vegas. Between the non-stop fun and much needed naps, that is. She had spoken with pride about Josie's accomplishments in Little League, and Sofia's piano recitals. To the best of his recollection, the words "brats", "monsters" or "Satanic" had never dropped from her lips.

She was being a mother… Dimly he remembered his own mother shoving his head through the bars of his crib and later on shouting at him distractedly before running out on him on his fifth birthday. What would life had been like if she'd stuck around longer? For once in his life, he shuddered at the possibility.

Laverne's not like that, he countered with himself. He then felt like a creep. All afternoon he'd wished Laverne had done something to get her kids under control; when she finally did, he couldn't handle it. What kind of a …

Lenny's blood ran cold. _Stepfather_. That was the word he was thinking of. If things went the way he hoped--wanted? Planned? He'd be those girls stepfather and that meant what exactly?

Well, a ready-made family for one thing. Laverne already had two kids, would she want more? With him? Once again, Lenny became very aware of the disparity between what he could give a kid versus what Sal—even before he became rich—was capable of doing to take care of Laverne. The only thing he'd ever tried to take care of was his turtle, and he remembered how poor Lightening had ended up-- dead on his back, trying to scrape Lenny's name off of his shell.

A loud thudding noise from the room above his ceiling broke Lenny's train of thought. The thud was followed by multiple footsteps and multiple whining voices.

His curiosity got the better of him and Lenny reached down on the floor for yesterday's jeans and pulled them on hurriedly, and reminding himself _not_toopen the bedroom door until his pants were zipped.

The whining noises got louder as he walked up the flight of steps into the kitchen. The overhead light in the kitchen was on, but it was still mostly dark out the kitchen window.

"But, Mom…" Josie whined, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt and rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. _Not a morning, person, big surprise._

Laverne's back was to Lenny and her voice had a steely edge that he had never heard before. "I said no. You're coming with me, and that's final."

"What's going on?"

Laverne whirled in surprise and then looked at him with a sheepish expression on her face. "Sorry, Len. I didn't mean for you to wake up," she said, as she shot her firstborn a dirty look. "I was going to leave you a note."

He forced himself to quell the knee-jerk panic that he felt when she said the word, "Leave". "Leaving? What's wrong?"

Laverne hesitated momentarily and then said, "It's my Pop. They think he's had another stroke."

Lenny blinked in surprise. "You're Pop's here? In California? I thought he was back in Brooklyn??

Laverne nodded. "He was, for a while after he sold the Pizza Bowl. Then he moved out here and…"

"He was going to live with us," chimed in Sofia.

Lenny then realized who's room he had slept in and tried not to blush when he remembered what he had wanted to do with that man's daughter in that very same bed.

"Back when our whole family was together," Josie said, as she glared at her mother.

Laverne ignored her kids and kept talking. "Dr. Feldman called me last night and said that he wasn't doing well. He called me again an hour ago and… " Laverne broke off, shaking her head in dismay. "Lenny, you didn't sign up for all of this. I know that I promised you Disneyland, but…"

He straightened his spine and gave her what he hoped was more of a reassuring smile. "Let me throw on a shirt, and I'll go with you."

She looked surprised. "Lenny, you don't have to."

"I want to. I haven't seen your Pop in years…" _Not that he ever liked me much since I was always mooning over his daughter._

"You don't understand, Lenny. Things have… changed," she finished lamely, and glanced at her daughters.

Josie's expression perked up noticeably. "If he goes with you, can me and Sophia stay home?"

"No. Arminda's off today and her brother picked her up last night after you went to bed."

"You've let us stay at home together on a Saturday afternoon before when she's been out, why not today?" Josie asked.

Laverne's eyes narrowed as she replied, "Because today you're not acting as grown up as you usually do, and I have enough to worry about, that's why."

"But…"

"No buts, get in the car. Now." Laverne watched her daughters trudge crankily to the garage, and then turned back to Lenny. "Len, you don't have to do this."

"What, are you crazy? Laverne, I ain't gonna sit here on my keister while your Pop is in the hospital." What kind of a guy did she think he was?

Laverne took a deep breath and seemed to collect her thoughts before speaking. "He's not in a hospital, Len. He's in a special facility. One for older people."

Lenny's jaw dropped. "An old folks home? Laverne, you put your Pop in a old folks home?"

She winced at his words as if they had been physical blows. "Len! It's… I didn't want to."

"Laverne, what's going on?" He took her hands in his and stepped closer to her.

"Before Sal and I talked about getting a divorce, we asked my pop if he would come live with us, but he wanted to be with the rest of the family back in Brooklyn. He stayed with my Grandma until she died, and then when my cousin Anthony's boss retired to Florida, he sold the butcher shop to Anthony and my Pop was going to help him get it up off of the ground." Laverne shook her head sadly and looked away from him for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "Anthony started calling me all the time, saying that Pop was forgetting things, leaving machinery on… I thought he just didn't like my Pop bossing him around all day in his own business, so I didn't pay much attention."

Lenny sucked in his breath, dreading her next words. "Until?"

Laverne swallowed and her eyes reddened. "Until Anthony called me from the hospital saying that my Pop had lost part of his finger in a slicer—'cuz he had forgotten to turn it off."

"Vernie," Lenny exhaled as he pulled her closer to him.

Laverne's words were muffled against his shoulder. "After that, Anthony didn't want him in the shop no more, he was too afraid that he wouldn't be able to watch out for him and he'd hurt himself again. Sal suggested that he come live with us, and I thought it was a great idea. The girls didn't get to see my Pop much when we were moving all the time. Josie remembered him a little bit; Sofia didn't know him at all. He lived with us for a few weeks before we realized he was a lot worse off than anyone knew."

Lenny pulled back from her and frowned. "Being old ain't sick, it's life."

"It's not just old, Len," Laverne explained, "My pop has a disease; it's called Alzheimer's. It's sort of like being senile, but worse. It can happen pretty fast, and once it does, there ain't no going back."

"The doctors can't help him?"

"There's no cure. We thought everything was okay at first when he lived here, he was just a little forgetful, that's all. One second he'd be fine, and arguing with Sal how the real Dodgers never left Brooklyn. The next second, he wouldn't know who any of us were, or where he was and he'd be terrified—and angry. He once thought I was my Mama and asked what I was doing whoring around on him with Sal…" Laverne turned away from him, and her voice thickened with tears.

Lenny took a step towards her and encircled her with his arms. "I'm so sorry…" He pressed against her, his chin on her shoulder as he tried to take some her pain onto himself.

She turned in his arms, and her tears flowed unchecked. "I wanted to keep him here, Len. Sal and I never fought about much, but we fought about him. A lot. One day," Laverne hesitated, and then her words tumbled out in a rushed garble. "My Pop just hauled off and hit me. Sal's a pretty big guy, but it was even hard for him to get him under control. After that day, I didn't argue with Sal anymore. We asked around with a bunch of different doctors and they all said that Fairleigh Haven was the best for the kind of care that my Pop needs. It's a nice place, Len. The people who work there are really good to him, and I visit him twice a week when the girls are in school, but…. I know it ain't home for him, Len. And deep down, I know that he knows he ain't home and it tears me up inside."

Lenny's guts churned and he called himself twenty kinds of stupid for not realizing what Laverne had been going through the past few years. With full clarity, he now remembered that she had neatly sidestepped most of the questions about her father when they had been back in Vegas.

Laverne clutched his arm and whispered against his shoulder, "What if my Pop had hit one of the girls? That's all that Sal had to say, and he was right. I'd never forgive myself if something had happened to either one of them, and if my Pop was his old self, he'd be the first person to say get him out of here."

Lenny said nothing, but merely held her until her tears subsided.

Laverne waked briskly down the sickly green hallway behind the doctor. How, at barely five foot two, the small man could out pace her most days, she never knew.

"Your father is stabilized now, Mrs. Malina," he said, in a Brooklyn accent that rivaled her own. "We have the test results from last night, and they have confirmed that your father has had another succession of min-strokes."

"How's he doing now? "

Dr. Feldman shook his head. "He's non-ambulatory. With physical therapy, it would be feasible for him to be able to move around in several weeks with a walker, if…"

"If he didn't have Alzheimer's and could do what the physical therapist asked him to do," Laverne finished for him.

"Exactly," the doctor replied in his always brusque and distant manner. He slowed down and glanced at her. "You know that we are doing everything to make him as comfortable as we can, don't you?"

"He wouldn't be here if I didn't, Doctor," She said, as she mentally braced herself and walked into her father's room. The room was light and spacious, more akin to a bedroom than a hospital room, save for the monitors above the bed and the still man in it. Her father's eyes were closed, but his face was contorted in a frown, as if he was arguing with his dreams.

Laverne sat by his bed and took his still large, but frighteningly frail-feeling hand in her own. She stared at him for long moments and tried to remember back to the days that he was her champion and hero.

"I can't believe you didn't have enough change for the vending machine," Josie said, as they walked down the hall.

Lenny kept walking, too tired by Laverne's earlier crying jag to care what her spoiled brat of a kid was saying. "I can't believe that your Mom lets you have Snickers bars for breakfast—not that there's anything wrong with that," he added.

A disinterested nurse glanced up from her paperwork as the trio approached the nurse's station. "May I help you?"

Josie pushed past Lenny. "Yes, we're hunting for Mr. DeFazios' room. Big 'D', little 'E', followed by 'Fazio'."

The nurse glanced at the chart and said, "Four eighteen, down the hall to your left."

"Thanks."

"Weird," Lenny muttered.

Josie looked up at him, dark brows drawn together and mouth pursed in a half frown—the spitting image of her mother. "What?"

Lenny looked at her quizzically. "You call your grandpa Mr. DeFazio?"

Josie looked away from him and continued to walk down the hallway.

"We've never called him Grandpa," Sofia said as they entered the room.

"Hey, Laverne, do you got any change? I only got a five and the nurses here don't make change…" Lenny shut up when he saw Laverne's tired face and bloodshot eyes, and once again cursed himself for being such a moron.

"Lenny Kosnowski!" Frank's eyes flew open and fixated on Lenny with a dark look.

Lenny's jaw dropped and instinctively stepped in front of Laverne and the girls. The voice was a harsh whisper of its former self, but there was still some steel in it. "Mr. DeFazio?" His whisper sounded wimpy to even his own ears and his face flushed in embarrassment.

The dark eyes narrowed, and come color crept up Frank's pale jowls as he railed, as his dark eyes focused on Lenny, "I oughta throw you out after what you and Squiggy did last weekend! Five hours it took me to get all the straw wrappers and mustard offa a the ceiling. What were you two knuckleheads trying to do, huh?"

"Uh, I'm sorry?" Lenny followed his gut and rambled on as decades old memories reasserted themselves. "It was Squiggy's idea. We was going for the Guinness Book of World Records."

Frank snorted, sounding much like a grizzly with bronchitis. "Are you gonna order or just sit there and stare at me?"

Lenny blinked in surprise and then said, "Uh, yeah. Can I get a beer? Please?"

Frank mumbled what must of have been a curse in Italian before rolling his eyes, "Ya want some food with that? I do sell food here, y'know. It kinda keeps me in business."

Lenny glanced at Laverne and shrugged and she looked back at him in confusion. "One pepperoni pizza?"

"You ain't gonna whine for Bosco?"

"Like that ever worked," Lenny muttered under his breath, momentarily forgetting where he was and what year it was. For that moment, he was once again an awkward adolescent, listening to Carl Perkins on the jukebox and staring longingly at a teenage Laverne in a twin set and poodle skirt.

Frank's eyes flickered and he glanced at his daughter, recognition dawning on his face. "Laverne! Go back in the kitchen and see what's the hold up! This is the third order I've had in the last five minutes and Mary and Tony must both be taking smoke breaks."

Laverne's mouth opened, and from the look on her face, Lenny thought she was going to argue. She seemed to switch gears, however and forced a thin smile to her lips before saying, "Yeah, Pop. I'll go check on that." Out of Frank's eyesight, she mouthed to Lenny, "Getting doctor."

"Who are these two?" Frank was now staring at the girls, his expression unreadable.

Lenny opened his mouth, but a glance at Josie's pale and frightened face made him close it quickly. "These are just two kids from the building," he lied, "I'm watching them while their mom stepped out."

Frank smiled at the girls. "Are you girls hungry? Would you like a nice pepperoni pizza while you wait for your mama?"

"Hey, that's my pepperoni pizza!" Lenny winced as Josie smirked.

Frank's smile grew wider and he chucked softly, "Don't listen to him, none. What's your name, honey?"

Laverne's youngest smiled shyly at her grandfather, and took a tentative step towards the hospital bed. "Sofia."

"Such a pretty name for such a pretty girl. You look like you're my daughter Laverne's age. She's in fourth grade. Do you know her from school?"

Sofia shot Lenny a quick look and then shook her head.

"They just moved into the neighborhood, Mr. DeFazio," Lenny said, all the while praying for some sort of medical intervention, "I don't think they've had a chance to make friends yet."

"Don't worry about that," Frank said, as his eyes started to flicker more rapidly and he looked away from the girls to stare at something only that he could see in the distance, "You just need one really good friend, and everything will be okay."

"Yeah," Lenny said, as his throat tightened up and Squiggy's face flashed before his eyes, "All you need is one friend."

"Len, can you go back in the kitchen and see what's holding things up?" Frank's voice had now thinned down to a whisper, "I think I'm just gonna rest my eyes for a bit. Don't steal nothing when your back there…"

Lenny turned just in time to see Laverne dash into the room with a small man on her heels. "Girls, wait outside with Lenny." She said.

For once Josie moved without argument.

Shakey's for once was mercifully quiet on a Saturday afternoon and the big player piano in the corner was silent for once with a "Broken: Repairman has been called" sign taped to it. _I guess everyone else got to go to Disneyland today._ Laverne looked around at the half empty restaurant and absent-mindedly tried to decide which waiters were stoned. For some reason, none of the four of them could get the idea of pepperoni pizza out of their heads, and this was as good of a place to indulge as any.

Laverne sipped her Pepsi as she watched Josie out of the corner of her eye. Her eldest daughter was quiet, and the girl stared at the half eaten piece of pizza on her plate like it was the most fascinating sight in the world.

Sofia looked at Lenny with a mixture of awe and trepidation on her young face. Her mouth had opened several times as if to ask a question, but it seemed that the girl lacked either the words or the courage to follow through.

"How's your pie?"

Lenny's blunt question jolted Laverne out of her reverie. "What?"

"Your pizza," he said as he gestured to her plate.

Laverne looked down and realized that she had taken a bite from the unnaturally orange triangle in front of her, but didn't seem to remember chewing or swallowing.

"It ain't bad," he said, evidently desperate to break the uncomfortable silence with chatter. "I mean, it's better than Army chow, and about as good as the stuff that you can get in Vegas, but it's not nearly as good as…"

She smiled at him, her eyes tender. "Not nearly as good as Pizza Bowl pizza? Not even close, Len."

He favored her with his lopsided, self-depreciating smile. "I really missed that when I left Milwaukee."

"Me too. By the time that I could afford to fly back and see my Pop, or wait until the girls were old enough for a bus ride that long, my Pop had sold the pizza had moved to New York." The words came easily to her lips for once; the nostalgia wasn't soured by guilt.

"You knew him, didn't you?" Josie's voice was small for once, but it seemed loud in the quiet restaurant.

Lenny nodded, as he watched Josie warily. "Yeah. He glanced at Laverne. A long time ago."

"Did he used to be like he was today?" Josie flushed and glanced at her mother. "Y'know, talking. Making sense?"

"Not scary?" Laverne looked at her daughter and willed herself to not judge her.

Josie took a deep breath and replied with a fraction of her normal defiance, "Yeah."

"Yeah, that's what he used to be like. He was always a little scary, though." Lenny said, shooting Laverne a quick look as Josie quickly stifled the beginning of a smile. "I used to hang out at the Pizza Bowl a lot."

"The pizza was really that good?"

Lenny shrugged. "That and other stuff that was there," he said and Laverne felt a warm flush spread to her cheeks.

"Who's Squiggy?" Sofia bit her lip and her dark eyes stared at Lenny.

Laverne sucked in her breath. Lenny hadn't wanted to talk about Squiggy at all when they were in Henderson. Then again, she reflected, they hadn't done that much talking after falling in bed for the weekend.

Lenny took a sip of his Pepsi, as if to buy himself some time. "He was my best friend."

Sofia looked at Lenny with saucer-sized eyes. "Did my Mom know him?"

"Yeah, we all grew up together." Lenny straightened his stance in his seat and his eyes took on the hard and distant sheen that had chilled her in Vegas."

"Sofia…" Laverne's voice held a note of warning.

Lenny blinked and cleared his throat, when his eyes met her gaze again, they had reddened somewhat, but held the familiar kindness that she had been accustomed to when they were growing up. "It's okay, Laverne," he whispered, before turning to her daughter. "I usually don't talk about him, Sofia. We were in Vietnam together a long time ago. I don't think he's alive anymore."

Wordlessly, Sofia slid from her chair, walked over to Lenny, and quietly hugged him.

Laverne shot a quick look at Josie who just watched quietly, biting her lower lip.

"Thank you," Lenny said thickly.

"Laverne?"

Laverne jumped at the sound of the familiar feminine voice behind her. "Gail? Hi," she said as she stood up and gave the petite blond a quick Los Angeles air-kiss hello.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Gail explained as she pulled her daughter closer to the table by her wrist, "but Holly wanted to come over and say hi to Josie. Holly is having a sleep over tonight, and we would have invited Josie, but I thought you were going to Disneyland today."

"That sort of fell through, we had kind of a family emergency," Laverne replied.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Gail said as she apparently just noticed Lenny and gave him a quick out of the corner of her eye once over.

Inspiration struck Laverne and she grinned at Gail. "Actually, the girls are free tonight," Laverne said as she glanced at Lenny, "is there still room at the slumber party?" _Please say yes, I'll do whatever you want. I'll help you co-chair the god damned girls scouts cookie drive this year even though both of my kids got kicked out._

Gail smiled in return, her blue eyes gleaming with the air of someone who realized that they are suddenly in the driver's seat; without really knowing—or caring which circumstances put them there. "I'll probably stop counting after trying to settle down eight shrieking girls sometime after midnight."

Josie's brows furrowed together in curiosity. "Mom?"

"Can Josie borrow some of Holly's P.J.s?" Laverne asked as the wheels in her mind began to turn faster and faster.

Gail glanced at Lenny's oblivious countenance as a sly smile crept across her face. "I don't think that will be a problem," she said with a sly wink.

"Can I give you five dollars to buy the girls toothbrushes at the gas station on your way home?"

"The toothbrushes are on me if you agree to host a slumber party when Bob and I celebrate our anniversary in three weeks," Gail asked archly.

Laverne smiled in return; the bargain had been made. "It will be a beautiful event …"

"Mom?"

"What, Josie?"

"Uh, I'm grounded," her firstborn said awkwardly.

Laverne shook her head. "You're grounded next weekend, but you've got a conditional release for this weekend."

"Mom?" Josie blinked in apparent disbelief as Laverne hustled both her and Sofia to their feet.

Laverne smiled a feral smile. "This is one of the conditions. Your little sister is going with you. Play nice…" she said as Gail escorted her suddenly reluctant children to her car.

Laverne sat back down in her chair and smiled suggestively at Lenny as she slipped off her sandal and trailed her big toe against the side of his calf. "I'm kind of full, Len. How about you?"

Lenny shrugged, his attention still focused on the mediocre pizza in his hand. "I could eat some more. This stuff isn't bad," he said as he reached for a discarded piece on Sofia's plate.

Laverne delivered a swift kick to his shin and explained in exaggerated enunciation, "I'm kind of full, as I want to go back home to a big empty house, Len."

Lenny's eyes widened in epiphany, and he mumbled around the mishmash of cheese and pepperoni in his mouth to a passing waiter, "Can I get a doggie bag?"

Laverne shoved his back up against the ragged jute covering of her bedroom wall as her tongue invaded his mouth. The ride back from Shakey's had been the longest ten minutes of his life as he had sat in the passenger side of her station wagon, and forced himself not to fondle her at every too-long red light for fear of them both ending up dead in a ditch.

His mind returned to the immediate presence, and his growing feeling of unease. "Uh, Laverne?" He pushed her slightly away from himself and steeled himself to his next words as he tried to ignore the longing in her flushed face and slack mouth.

"Mmm… Yeah?"

"I can't," he breathed.

"Huh?"

Instantly, his voice dropped to a lower, and manlier octave. "I mean, I can—and I really want to; but, not here. Not on this bed. I'm sorry…" He'd looked away from her as he spoke and now he made himself look into her green eyes and to suffer any aspersions that she might cast upon his virility.

"Len…." She began.

"I wanna be with you, more than anything. It's all that I've been thinking about for the last few weeks."

"Len…"

He shook his head. "Not that that's the only reason I flew out here. I mean, I like spending time with you—and I mean real time, not just naked time…."

"Len…"

"And I'm glad I got to meet your girls, even Josie," he added belatedly, "I mean I know they really don't like me much and I really ain't crazy about them yet—Sofia's really sweet—but I just can be with you in the bed where you and Sal…"

She smiled the sweetest and sexiest smile that he'd ever scene in his thirty-six years. "Hush. Len, you don't have to worry. It ain't the same bed."

"Really?" Deep down, he hoped that if she were lying, he'd be as dumb as he usually thought that he was and he'd believe her.

"Getting ride of our bedroom furniture was the first thing I did after Sal moved out. Neither wanted to keep it because we both wanted to move on. This," she said as she patted the oak footboard, "is fresh from the Broyhill showroom. Sal has never even seen this bed; much less…"

Her next words were cut off by a kiss. Lenny took her into his arms aggressively as he pressed himself against her, all the while marveling at the difference between the hard angles of his body and the spare, yet soft, curves of her own.

Laverne stepped back against the blue butterfly coverlet of the queen-sized bed and pulled him down on top of her.

His fingers flew to the buttons of the battered denim blouse she wore and with a skill only known by the neck of his battered Fender, and he nimbly began to undo each button as his eyes joyfully feasted on the tanned flesh that became revealed inch by inch.

She groaned into his ear and he felt her leg hook over his as she began to press against his hardening groin rapidly. He pulled back from her quickly, knowing that he wouldn't last an instant if she kept that up for any amount of time. Quickly he stripped off his faded "I Lost My Ass in Vegas" tee shirt as he watched her slowly and sensuously wriggle out of her jeans. His jeans had hit the floor as she hooked one finger into the waistband of her panties and draw them off in a slow and tantalizing slide down her soft thighs.

Memories of their many times—and many positions—back in Las Vegas flooded his mind and overwhelmed him. He fell upon her once again, nipping playfully at her belly button as his mouth and tongue began the wonderful journey south.

Laverne moaned loudly at his intimate touches, reminding him of their interlude on his kitchen counter, the one against the back of his sofa—the plaid polyester tweed had given her one heck of a rug burn on her knees--, the time in his shower stall when she had gripped the showerhead to tightly to balance herself while he had been caressing her and the showerhead had broken off. He'd tried to fix it with some plumber's tape, but it still leaked. Come to think of it, he wondered, had he remembered to turn the shower off before dashing to the airport to catch his flight?

Laverne's spasming pelvis brought Lenny back to the here and now, where he was just grateful to not have suffered a broken nose from her jerking motions.

Laverne looked up at him in amazement, her eyes glowing with pleasure and her skin damp with perspiration. Her lust slacked mouth moved several times before any sounds came out. "Oh my god… That was…"

He forced a suave smile before flipping her over on top of him and saying, "That was just the beginning." Images of their past times evaporated as Lenny focused on the not-yet-quite sated woman in his arms. He groaned aloud as Laverne quickly straddled him, taking him deep in her already wet channel. Her aftershocks proved to be his undoing as he clutched her against him tightly and lost himself inside of her, shouting out her name as he came. His eyes were fluttering closed as he saw one last peek at her shuddering anew before she collapsed onto his damp chest.

They lay together intertwined for many long moments before Laverne pushed herself off of his sweat-slicked torso and slithered on to the bedspread beside him. She smiled up at him from the pillow. "You okay?"

He grinned and rolled onto his back. Laverne's bedroom ceiling was definitely the prettiest that he'd ever seen in his whole life. "I'm more than okay."

"Me too."

"That was…"

"Overdue?" She looked at him sideways and grinned.

"Overdue like a really good library book; a really good one," he added for emphasis.

"I'm glad. I'm sorry that yesterday was so…"

"Like it was?"

"Yeah. I should have handled that differently."

"What could you have done? I mean, if the girls didn't want to meet me…"

She squirmed against him slightly. "Well, the girls really didn't know about you. Until we started to drive to the airport," she finished with a flinch.

His mouth fell open in shock. "Laverne! I can't believe that you're so ashamed of me…"

"I ain't ashamed of you!"

"Oh?" Realization suddenly dawned on him. "Oh, you're ashamed of your kids." He thought about it for a moment. "I kinda get that."

She shot him a dirty look. "I ain't ashamed of them either!"

"Not even Josie?"

"No! Well," she added, reflectively, "not usually. It wasn't fair to them. I thought they'd be with Sal this weekend and I wouldn't have to tell them about us for a while."

"For how long?"

"1980?" Her answer was a whispered squeak.

"That's a long time, Laverne."

"They're just not used to seeing me with someone who isn't their father," Laverne explained. "I know that has to be tough for them, and I know that me not telling them made it even worse. And you go the rough end of the worse, didn't you?"

His shoulders hunched in a partial shrug. "I can kind of guess that I'm not their favorite person right now and I kind of understand."

"Len, you always understand. That's why I should have given you more of a break and told the girls. I'm sorry."

"S'okay. Does Sal know?"

"I was planning on telling him in 1990."

"Laverne!"

She chuckled. "Kidding… He knows. I think he's happy for me, but that's not important. What's important is how we feel."

"Yeah, but…" His arms encircled her more tightly and he sighed. "This ain't gonna be easy, is it?"

Her response was muffled in his chest hair. "No, it's not." She swallowed noisily and looked him in the eye.

He was shocked to see that her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"Do you want to leave?" Her gaze was steady, but her voice had a slight catch to it.

Lenny shook his head. "No! I never want to be away from you again."

Laverne gestured to the room around them. "Stay…"

"I can't. I mean, I want to stay with you, but not here."

She looked at him, her expression one of pure understanding. "I know. I don't think I want to stay here either."

"Really?"_She wanted to leave stately Wayne Manor?_ He couldn't believe his ears, and he'd washed them out good the morning before, too.

"Yeah. I mean, look at this place. It's huge."

"It's more humungous than huge."

She moved away from him incrementally and then sat up in bed; she paused, as if choosing her words with the utmost care. "I held on to this house because Sal and I didn't want to disrupt the girls' lives any more than we had to when we split up. But," she said, shaking her head, "their lives are different now. It ain't right of me to keep them in a house where they keep expecting to see their Dad walk through the door any second."

Lenny pulled the sheet over the both of them quickly. "That ain't gonna happen, is it?"

She laughed softly and playfully swatted at his arm. "Don't worry about it." Her mood quickly re-sobered. "This is the house where the four of us, and my Pop," she said as her voice trembled, "lived."

"Vernie…"

She shook her head. "Things change, Len, and there's no going back. Why am I torturing my kids with the thought that there could still be a chance?"

The frightening question that had set up house in his head for the past day and a half fell out of his mouth. "Maybe it's not just the kids who want Sal back."

"No, Len," she said with another shake of her head. "Me and Sal were over years before the divorce. I do miss him sometimes-- not that way! I miss having a partner. I like being part of a couple," she admitted. "Sal and me did a pretty good job considering we weren't right for each other. I don't like being lonely."

He sat up next to her, feeling more comfortable engaging in their current discussion semi-vertically, albeit nude. "You didn't seem to be lonely in Vegas; and I'm not just talking about when the two of us was together in Vegas."

"I wasn't back then. I am now; I've been lonely every day since I got back in town. I mean, I drop the girls off at school at quarter of eight every weekday morning and I pick them up at two forty-five each afternoon. That's seven hours a day, Len. It's thirty five hours a week, but it seems like forever to me."

"I wish I was as good as math as you."

She ignored his words and continued. "I'm not Mrs. Malina anymore. Well," she amended, "I am, but not the Mrs. Malina who has to plan the perfect parties for strangers, and go to perfect parties thrown by strangers, and do all the stuff that I had to do to help Sal's business become a success. Not that I liked doing that; actually-- I hated it, but it was something. It was _my_ thing; you know?" Her green eyes looked at him imploringly.

Lenny looked back at her in askance. "Laverne, you're a mother. You've got two kids to take care of."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Two kids who need me less and less; which is a good thing," she added hastily. "It means that I'm doing my job right. I just don't want to turn into one of those awful clingy mothers who make their kids nuts and drive them away."

He shuddered at a distant memory. "Like Hector Ketzenbaum's mother?"

"Exactly! I really don't want to be making the girls beds for them and running their baths when they're in their twenties."

Lenny smirked. "Hector showed his Mom; he quit taking baths altogether by the time he was fifteen."

"Have you stayed in touch with Hector?"

"No."

"Good."

He ignored her jab at his old friend. "Laverne, what do you want to do?"

She shrugged. "I don't know just yet. I just know that there's more out there for me and I have to start looking for it."

Lenny giggled; a sound that was akin to a drunken walrus looking for love. "You sound like one of them Women's Libbers."

"And?" Her tone was challenging; so much like the old Laverne who had dared the boys not to pick her first for street softball games.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," he said hastily. "I just…I want to ask you to marry me."

Her jaw dropped and threatened to collide with the sheets. "What?"

"I want to, but I can't."

"Okay, that isn't fair!"

"Laverne," he begged as he tried to explain as his words fell over each other in a race to leave his foolish mouth. "I ain't got nothing to offer you! I'm a bartender; that's all. I ain't even a real good bartender. Customers send back my vodka gimlets all of the time!"

"Len, you don't have to…"

"I can't just live off of you." _And Sal_. "I gotta make my own way."

She shook her head slowly. "I can't move to Vegas to be with you, Len. I couldn't take the girls that far away from Sal, it wouldn't be fair to them and it wouldn't be fair to him."

He shook his head and tried to ignore every impulse to run out of the room bawling his eyes out like a little kid. "I can't just sit here on my duff and freeload."

"What are we gonna do?"

"Be together," he replied in a calm voice that he barely recognized as his own. "It just ain't gonna be fast."

"Or easy."

"Visiting is good," he said as he felt a glimmer of hope take hold within him.

Laverne smiled. "I know that when Sal's back on his feet, he'll want to make up for lost time with the girls, and there's a holiday weekend coming up. I could meet you in Vegas?"

"Nah…"

"What?"

He held his hands up in front of him, part in supplication and part in self-defense. "What I mean is, why don't I come back to California?" Lenny shook his head. "Our future ain't in Las Vegas, Laverne; why should we waste time there?"

"Our future. I like the sound of that," she purred as she snuggled back into his arms.

"I love it. Almost as much as I love you," he said as he took her in his arms and prepared to be there for the long haul.

FIN


End file.
